The Realm of Peace.
PEACE dwelt within a deep, silent mountain tarn that was unfathomable, yet reflected, notwithstanding, the sky's eternal blue. About it tall cliffs reared their heads, that shone at eve with rosy sheen, while beyond it was protected by a dense forest in which an ax had never sounded. Neither Sorrow nor Strife had ever come in here; even the wind could find no entry, for the rocks had pushed themselves forward so protectingly that Winter also had to rest content with shaking in lightly quite a few of his flakes, for there were warm springs in the tarn, so Frost had no power over it. It was ever green and flowering round about the shore, and the song of birds filled the air. When Peace lay floating on the quiet surface of the tarn all the flowering and singing streamed towards him. Then he would smile blissfully, and kiss the sunbeams that darted their warm arms towards him; ay, he would encircle them and draw them under the water and play hide-and-seek with them behind the trees and leaves. He was such a glorious youth that all things loved him; they loved his blue eyes, fathomless like the lake whence he arose, his ruddy lips, his wondrous voice, his happy laughter. No wonder that the sunbeams sought him, that the moss trembled with joy when he stepped lightly across it, that the leaf trembled that touched his brow, that the deer gazed long into the stream wherein he had seen his image, that the elves and nixes could only dream of him.
But one day a sound of weeping and sighing swept through the forest, as though the trees made plaint, and from their leaves fell drops and woke the fair sleeper whom the sunbeams had lulled to rest. Amazed, he gazed around him. A girlish figure came towards him, with pale face and long dark lashes and sad, sad eyes. She dragged her feet wearily across the moss and sank down beside him.
"Who are you?" he asked, astonished.
"I am Sorrow; Mother Patience sends me to you."
"Who is Mother Patience? and who is Sorrow? I have never heard of them."